Wendy's Wishes
by SexyRinSohma
Summary: Four years after the family's trip to Neverland, Wendy is missing the boy that sparked her imagination. But her father has other ideas
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Wendy sighed bleakly as she gathered the washing. Great black clouds which she knew to be carrying their fair share of freezing rain hovered above, the first few flecks beginning to mark the cobblestones beneath her feet. The blistering winds came with these storm clouds, whipping up the bed sheets Wendy was collecting so they billowed like the Jolly Roger's white sails.

Quickly dropping the last of the sheets into a wicker basket she hauled it all back inside, remembering the last time she has seen those sails. Although her father and eldest brother, John, refused to believe that they had seen the pirate ship of clouds trailing through the sky three or so years ago, she, her mother and Michael weren't letting go so easily.

The broad grin and cock's crow of a certain russet haired boy lingered on in Wendy's memories and dreams. She had spent around a day with Peter and the Lost Boy's, including all the adventures in Neverland and flying to and from worlds; but it had felt longer than that, never since that day had Wendy ever felt so exhilarated or filled with so much emotion. The nervousness, fear, joy and awe, all centred around one green leaf clad boy. Only last night the blonde haired girl had dreamt she was being spirited away again, the scent of the ocean spray and Indian incense tantalising her nostrils.

Wendy continued whirling around in these thoughts as she stored the bed sheets in the airing cupboard, barely noticing John march past her, Nana on a rope at his heels and Michael whining along behind.

"But why John, your so mean," wailed the blonde seven year old, trying to tug back the fraying rope.

"Because, Michael, she is a dog, her continuous yowling is stopping me from writing my notes, what I'm doing is far more important than your games," replied the older brother, almost pompously.

This is when Mary Darling appeared; still securing her smooth honey hair with a ribbon that matched her dress, a petite frown on her face.

"Please boys, you know I'm taking Wendy and your father to a dance tonight, it's a very important occasion for your sister."

Glaring at the floor, John dropped the rope which allowed Nana to bound free happily, the dog and Michael skipping and tumbling round the corner back to the nursery. Smiling lovingly at her youngest son, Mrs Darling's gaze then fell upon her daughter.

"Good gracious, my dear why aren't you dressed!"

Wendy glanced down at her plain skirt and blouse, a dusty and slightly damp apron still tied round her waist from where she had been cleaning and tidying. Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked back up to where her father now emerged.

"Blasted cufflinks, Wendy, why do you look like a maid, your meant to look like a princess, tonight is the night you find a suitable man!"

Mr Darling's rage was obvious on his face, the relatively pale man glowing like the tomatoes in the garden. Wendy apologised, her words babbling out until her mother helpfully guided the girl into her own room.

"But mother, I really don't want to go to this ball," she complained.

Mrs Darling continued brushing her daughters light brown hair, teasing it into ringlets and smoothing down loose strands.

"You don't have to make any decisions tonight, just enjoy yourself to keep your father happy."

Wendy sighed and slipped on a pair of pretty silver slippers, wriggling her toes and wishing she could be barefoot in Neverland. She would give anything to get away from the party.

It was a warm evening, so the trio set of at a steady pace to Mr Waddlington's house, a business partner of Mr Darling. Wendy had the uneasy feeling he was going to embarrass her, and of course himself in the process.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Wendy smiled awkwardly as Robert Waddlington placed a soft kiss on her hand, holding her fingers delicately. It wasn't that he was a particularly unattractive boy, or that he wasn't intelligent. In fact, Master Waddlington took after his father with his witty remarks and scholarly attitude, and his dark features were rather handsome she supposed. But he was so boring, all his conversation was nothing but politics and upper class gossip; she felt no spark whatsoever when near him.

Slowly pulling her hand away from his grasp Wendy turned to her mother and grimaced. The older woman looked on sympathetically, but did nothing.

The Waddlington's ballroom was exquisite, though very old fashioned for 1915. The panelling was beginning to fade but the lighting and decorations for this event did a good job of hiding the faults of the building. The music playing was a little outdated as well, but suited the atmosphere nicely. There was a large table in the corner covered with a white lacy tablecloth; it was straining under the weight of all Mrs Waddlington's dishes, obviously not cooked by her but most certainly picked out by the lady of the house. Wendy could faintly smell the finger sandwiches and banana pie over the surrounding ladies perfumes and she was tempted to go and linger by that table all night. But fate had other plans for her.

As the girl took a step forwards she felt a strong warm hand grab her shoulder and spin her to face him. Robert grinned at her, his head tilted back slightly as if to show off his proud chin and arching neck, he really was a pompous boob.

"Would you care to dance," he asked sweetly.

His sugary voice almost disgusted her and Wendy felt she must back away. But she could feel her father's eyes on her and really didn't want to disappoint him.

Luckily this was a group dance, reminding Wendy of 'Pride and Prejudice' as she took her place opposite Robert. It meant she wouldn't have to look the boy in the eye to much, and probably wouldn't have to touch him much either. Pulling out her fake smile again, she curtsied and began.

_He watched the girl in the pale blue dress carefully. He was sure it was her. She had the same light brown hair, thicker but still soft looking and curly. She had the same elegance, but now her shape was less youthful, curvaceous, a woman. The ball gown she wore was even of a similar colour to that night dress she was wearing three years ago. Or was it four? Time passed so differently in Neverland._

_ Peter tipped his hat nervously, letting the rim hide his face in shadow. He was not used to these sorts of crowds. All these posh upper class folk in their tight constricting clothes. He'd rather be prancing about with the youthful pickpockets in the streets; they had a sense of fun and danger, much like his lost boys back home. But Neverland was getting harder to reach now. Soon Peter felt he would have to choose between this world and the other, but he wasn't ready yet, not quite yet. He continued to stare at the girl, mesmerised by the flow of her skirts that almost brushed the floor at every twist and turn. Then suddenly, he was gone._

Wendy threaded through the arched arms of the women to the end of the dance floor, repeating this motion for the third time. That was the problems with these old dances, they were tiresome, but at least you didn't forget the moves. Glancing down at her gloved hand she tugged on her sleeve trying to cover a smudge of dirt without loosing her pace. When she looked up again she almost stumbled and stuttered in shock. Those familiar blue eyes, filled with mirth and mischief. The boy winked and raised a finger to his lips whilst he bowed and took her arm to continue the dance. But no; he wasn't a boy anymore. Like Wendy he had grown. He was now quite a few inches taller than her, his shoulders had broadened and his hair had grown a little, causing the reddish locks to curl slightly. She expected to be saddened by the fact he had lost that youthful boyishness, but instead she felt warmed by this person that was more man then child. She was still staring at him in wonder when the boy passed her on to the next male in line. He winked again before escaping the dance.

She desperately tried to follow but was caught up by the brisk movement of other dancers who glared at her as she disrupted them. By the time she broke free of the group he was long gone.

She whispered almost silently, believing it must have been her imagination.

"Peter?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

As Wendy swept out on to the balcony she felt like crying. After years of no contact, not even the wisp of a shadow, Peter had burst back into her life and then vanished again just as quickly. Sighing miserably she lay her head upon the stone ledge and let a single tear drop, leaving a moist mark. Closing her eyes she wished again and again to see that cheerful grin and messy auburn hair. There was a teensy tinkling by the girl's ear. Thinking it to be a nasty bug of some sort Wendy swatted aimlessly until she heard a disgruntled squeak. Jolting up in surprise she found a miniscule creature with even tinier wings fluttering about her face.

"Tinkerbell," she exclaimed, amazed that the irritable fairy would even bother contacting her, knowing the contempt it held toward her.

The fairy jingled in annoyance, her blonde hair coming loose from its bun as she began tugging on Wendy's curls impatiently.

"What, where do you want me to go?"

The fairy's glowing aura was slowing darkening to a pink as Wendy's lack of understanding frustrated her. Pointing desperately to the street below Tinkerbell flapped her arms and smacked her forehead, trying to make herself understood. The frantic movements made little sense to the London girl, but she peered down into the dark street.

A man's hat was hanging from a lamppost, swinging slightly as if it had just been placed there. The hat Peter had worn.

Wendy's heart rose in her chest, joy spreading like warmth through her body. Peter must have sent Tinkerbell.

Racing through the ballroom as if her life depended on it Wendy brushed past other guests, knocking a few in her haste. Robert grabbed her arm, a sincere seeming expression plastered across his face.

"What's wrong, is somebody chasing you, I will have them thrown out."

Wendy then realised he just wanted some excitement; he wanted to show off his power and control. Not bothering to answer she defiantly wrenched free of his grasp and continued on, ignoring the furious glare from her father and worried stare from her mother. She reached the front door and clattered down the front porch steps, panting slightly. The hat was still there, its swinging having ceased a few minutes ago. Dashing over the empty road she slipped slightly and lost her slipper, but continued on in her passion, the rough floor cold to the touch against her bare foot.

Reaching the hat she paused, before reaching up to brush his fingertips against the black silk. Wendy was not quite tall enough to unhook it from the lamppost, so she stood on tip-toes to free it. Bringing the brow of the hat to her chest, she smiled at her success.

"I'll swap ya?"

Wendy's face lit up as she recognised the common voice, she turned to face the boy standing in the middle of the road, her dancing slipper balanced upon his finger.

"I am afraid this hat is worth far more than that old worn out dancing shoe young man," she teased, her lips curving seductively.

Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he strode a few steps forward till they were barley a meter apart.

"What else would you have me give?"

Wendy shuffled closer so he could hear her whisper.

"Another thimble, a good one."

Peter smiled and lowered his head.

"I've been in this world a while now, do you really want a thimble, or would you rather a kiss?"

Wendy blushed slightly at being caught out and turned her head away, but Peter caught her by the chin and stroked the soft skin at her neck with his thumb. She leant into his touch and glanced up into the beautiful blue eyes. Imitating his actions she placed her own dainty hands on his cheek, letting their gazes lock and communicate without need for speech. Slowly Peter's lips descended toward hers, they could feel one another's warm breath between them. Closing her eyes tightly Wendy lifted her face and pressed her full lips against his tanned ones.

Pulling her closer Peter felt the girl's body relax against him, he was in control this time. Resting his hand at the base of her neck he tilted her back, kissing her harder. Moaning in surprise she let him take over, opening her mouth slightly. Taking his chance to try something new he let his tongue dance over her lips before meeting its partner and brushing against it. Refusing to be completely dominated Wendy flicked her own tongue experimentally and tightened her grip on his back.

Separating to take a gasp of air, the couple clung to each others warmth, glad to be together again.

"I missed you so much," whimpered Wendy, burying her face in his chest.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, not a single day passed without a memory of you," panted Peter, resting his chin on her head.

"Then why didn't you so back sooner?"

The boy did not answer straight away, but Wendy imagined she could hear the cogs ticking in his brain, trying to come up with a courageous excuse.

"Neverland...it's not quite the same anymore," he whispered sadly.

She looked up curiously, not sure how that was the answer to her question. But Peter only looked down at her, grief plain in his eyes. Slowing caressing her hand and entwined their fingers together tightly.

"Come, I'll show you."


End file.
